


Terrified Of You

by Hibisha



Series: A Sense of Belonging [2]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor needs a new hobby, Alternate Universe - Human, Denial, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, RadioDust week 2020, TW: Mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24249190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hibisha/pseuds/Hibisha
Summary: Angel didn't know what to do - didn't understand - the fact that deep in his core, Alastor was more human than the rest of them.RadioDust Week Day 1: Dancing/Cooking
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Series: A Sense of Belonging [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750366
Comments: 9
Kudos: 118





	Terrified Of You

**Author's Note:**

> And so, she decided to expand on this verse.
> 
> Part 1 of this series is technically [this ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22500928/chapters/54036952)but I've written this as a stand alone fic as well.

_ I’m terrified of you. _

Angel inhaled sharply as Alastor picked up the large knife only to squirm in his place as the man brought it down to dice some vegetables and throw them into the pot he had bubbling in front of him.

“You know, for a serial killer, ya sure seem deceivingly soft, bein’ all domestic and shit.”  Angel commented as watched as the tall brunette danced around in his makeshift kitchen, moving with careless fluidity as he tossed another ingredient into the simmering pot, stirring continuously as he slowly added wine from a bottle he had brought along with him. Alastor gave him a wide smile, all teeth, accompanied with a look that could easily be considered a thinly veiled threat.

“And for someone who has a - what did they call me on the news the other day? - ah yes, a _sociopath_ working in his kitchen, you sure are very calm my dear.” Came a retort, putting words to the hidden warning. Angel has no choice but to concede defeat. Wrapping his threadbare blanket around himself even tighter, he once again tried to guess why Alastor seemed to keep returning to his run down apartment to spend time with him. It made no sense that someone of his caliber would continuously involve himself to what Alastor himself had called the scum of the earth. Not to him specifically but people of his like and Angel wasn’t smart but he knew how to put two and two together.

_ Why are you here? _

Alastor said it was entertaining.

Angel was almost certain he was fattening him up to devour him.

And definitely not in any way Angel wished he would.

”I guess I just forgot ya killed people for a hobby. Ya know, some people just collect stamps.”

Angel wondered at what point had their dynamics changed so drastically that he had stopped caring that he was talking back to a man who took joy in causing people pain but the man gave him a false sense of security he desperately made believe was real. Well mostly talking back. Sometimes Angel barely existent self preservation skills kicked into action and he’d bite fight with himself to keep his mouth from saying something stupid. Alastor didn’t grace him with a response but Angel saw how his shoulders shook as he stifled a laugh.

“You said you’d be out of my hair once the police went away.” Angel reminded him in a tiny voice, as he had been doing for the past week - each time when the man would show up to his doorstep with a large smile adorning his handsome face and some excuse that seemed a little too convenient to be true.

His latest one was a touch endearing-

_ “A fan of my show sent me some wine. Seeing as I was in the area, I took it upon myself to share with you a recipe my mother used to make!” _

-and an outright lie.

Angel glared at the receipt for the wine that the man had set down - on purpose just to mock him, he knew it - on the table in front of him. It was a silent challenge. Almost as if the other man was daring him to grab it for inspection. To check the timestamp. Angel didn’t own a lot but he was willing to bet everything he owned that it would be marked as only several minutes before Alastor knocked on his door.

The illusion that Alastor had created where he said he was here on a whim was all too easy to shatter but Angel feared what lay behind it all.

To let the curtain fall would be naive when you don’t know what horrors lurked in its shadows.

So, Angel had to bite the inside of his cheek, force himself to ignore the paper in front of him and keep himself snapping at the other and calling him out on his bullshit. He slumped lower in his place and a sharp pain ran through his spine - a stark reminder of how last night’s job had gone dreadfully south. Angel choked back a whimper as his body ached from his meeting with Valentino that had followed. It was as if fate was testing him, seeing how much Angel could be pushed to the edge before he succumbed to the darkness. The bruises had yet to fade and he was glad Alastor had not picked the lock this time round to waltz in to see him without clothes - again. His boss left plenty of reminders on his body to never let him forget whom he truly belonged to. 

Alastor didn’t seem to like seeing any form of bruises or scars on his body. The time he had noticed the ugly hand shaped prints along his neck, the radio host had gone dreadfully silent, his responses clipped and short and his visit cut even shorter.

In a way, Alastor was more human than any of them.

A sweet thought.

Angel felt his heart clench.

_ Nonononono. NO. _

_ Go back go back go back. _

_ Run away. _

_ Lock the door and throw away the key. Don’t look back. _

The man in question had begun to hum along with radio he had brought with him the week prior, seeming satisfied with the sauce he was working on and moving to place it on the counter and putting another pan on the stove, gracefully adding oil and strips of meat. The room was engulfed in the sounds and smells of sizzling meat and Angel once again felt his perception of reality warp as his mind tried to connect the series of brutal murders to the ever smiling man standing in his kitchen, joyfully singing as he cooked what he claimed was venison and Angel prayed was at least animal.

He wouldn’t be shocked if Alastor one day confessed he had been feeding him his neighbour all along.

Alastor added the meat to the sauce he had created before and after a little more adjustments to it, covered the pot with a lid and let simmer on low flame. Angel watched as the man worked to clear away any mess he might have made, even going so far as to doing the dishes. The sheer mundanity of it was making Angel’s head spin. Taking off the apron, he set it aside and went to wash his hands before answering Angel’s question.

“Angel my suspiciously over-dressed fellow,” Angel immediately curled in on himself trying to make himself disappear, “Ah yes, don’t think I haven’t noticed, I’ve been quiet about it simply to mind my manners as a guest. And as for your inquiry, I have already stated my reasons for coming have I not?”

The receipt was spitting in Angel’s face.

Figuratively.

Angel wanted to spit in Alastor’s face.

Literally.

He debated his options in his head and finally settled to live another day and responded with a half hearted shrug. Alastor’s eyes narrowed as his smile turned rather pointed - wrong response.

_I’m sorry please don’t hurt me._

A knee jerk response as his body curled up even more. Alastor raised an eyebrow and walked over to stand in front of him, hands clasped behind his back as he watched Angel as if he was a particularly interesting fish swimming circles in a shallow pool of water. Head tilted and eyes gleaming with both curiosity and something else Angel couldn’t quite place his finger on. Angel forced himself to look away, deciding the piece of paper was much more easier on the eyes than the other man.

“Come now darling, you’re being dreadfully dull today. Why, I feel like I’ve had better conversations with a corpse!” He laughed at his own morbid joke. “Perhaps a nice tangle of the limbs would lift your weary spirits?”

Angel’s head snapped up to look at the other man, his brain not properly catching up with his words because did that really mean what he thought it meant- Alastor grabbed his hand and yanked him from the couch, pulling him close, his other hand easily settling on his waist.

_Don’t get used to it._

In an ideal situation, Angel wouldn’t have stumbled and almost collided straight against Alastor’s chest.

In an ideal situation, Alastor would fuck him on the couch till he could forget about anyone else ever touching him and then leave and never return.

But in an ideal situation, he would also not be in the arms of a charismatic serial killer.

The word “ideal” was fictitious; Angel was in a terrible situation.

But, as Alastor led Angel in a dance around his very small almost empty apartment, singing along to the radio, he could pretend that it was still perfect. Because pretending was easier than remembering why he shouldn’t be here. Why he shouldn’t get attached.

Alastor was malicious. He was cold. He didn’t care.

He wasn’t the first in Angel’s life to be like so.

But as he forced Angel into a dip, his face taking up the entirety of Angels field of vision, a single thought resonated in his mind - something he had been trying to bury down and never let see the light of day.

_I’m terrified of you leaving me too._

**Author's Note:**

> I had way too much fun typing this.


End file.
